The Secret Life of a Doctor and Detective
by Books In the Blood
Summary: John and Sherlock aren't always solving crimes. Occasionally they even do normal, every day things. Domestic snapshots into the lives of Sherlock and John.
1. Vices

This will be a series of short domestic, drabbles, everyday life at 221B. If you have any ideas of what you'd like to see in this story let me know. As always reviews are much appreciated!

John paid the cabbie and then ran quickly to the door of 221 B, getting drenched in the downpour that had started about a half hour ago. It was a short distance from the cab to the door but nonetheless he ended up feeling uncomfortably wet in his clothes. He had been planning on going out for drinks with Stamford but shortly after they had gotten to the pub the violent storm started and the power had gone out, cutting their visit short. It was a frustrating ending to a bad day.

After the morning that they'd had John had been looking for a chance to get his mind off things. He and Sherlock had been working on a case for the past few weeks that had been frustrating to say the least, a kidnapping with almost nothing to go on. Even Sherlock had found it taxing though he wouldn't openly admit it. John could see the subtle signs of stress on his flat mate. Finally, after all this time they had found the hideout of the criminal. Unfortunately they had also found the body of the child. John just couldn't shake the memory of it. He and Sherlock had ridden back home in silence and they had moved quietly around the flat the rest of the day, not speaking or doing much of anything. They didn't speak all day until John had announced that he was going to be going out. Sherlock hadn't said anything, appearing lost in thought as he sat in his chair staring at the wall.

John twisted the doorknob of their flat and found it surprisingly locked. John found this strange as Sherlock never locked the door; even when he went out he usually didn't remember to lock the door of the flat much to John's annoyance. So to find it locked was not only frustrating ( as he continued to be soaked through) but puzzling. John fumbled with his keys in his pocket, producing the correct one and inserting it in the door.

When he stepped into the flat he wasn't surprised to see it was pitch black here as well. He stumbled toward the steps and walked cautiously up the stairs. The dark wasn't surprising; however what was surprising was the smoke that had completely permeated the flat. When John stepped into the living room he saw Sherlock sitting in the exact same spot that he had left him, a fire in the fireplace illuminating his face, smoking. From the amount of smoke that filled the air and the pile of ashes in the tray on the table John would say that Sherlock had been smoking the entire time that he been gone. John coughed as the smoke overtook him. " Sherlock, what are you doing?!" he asked between coughs.

Sherlock took a long drag off his cigarette and blew it out slowly, shamelessly, before answering. "I could ask you the same thing" he said lazily. " Thought you'd be gone a while."

"So I leave and you just decide that you start smoking? What else do you do when I'm gone Sherlock?" John asked, " What happened to quitting? You were doing well with that….and I thought I got rid of all of your cigarettes. Where'd you get these?"

"Did you really think that you knew all my hiding spots?" Sherlock asked as he blew out some more smoke. He finished off the cigarette and gave a John a small glance before taking out another.

"Hey, hey!" John said as he took the cigarette out of Sherlock's hand. " Stop it. You're supposed to be quitting and anyway I think you've had enough" he gestured to the huge amount of smoke that filled the flat "Hate to think of what your lungs look like right now. Don't know how you're even still breathing, don't you know all the-"

"All the effects of smoking?" Sherlock asked "Course I do. Dull, how dull." He snatched the cigarette out of John's hand and rather than fight it, John just gave into him. Sherlock lit it and began to fill the room and his lungs with more smoke. "It's _calming _." he said.

"I thought your patches were calming" John said, "What happened to doing that?"

"Well, I did think you'd be out after all" Sherlock gave him a somewhat guilty look. Not guilty as in sorry but guilty as in a child that is sorry they got caught, not sorry for what they did. " And before you get any ideas that I do this often when you're gone, I will tell you that I don't. Only when things are particularly…..troubling."

John studied Sherlock's face as he starred at the flames in the fireplace. He thought about events of the day, saw the child again in his mind and felt a chill. Yes, surely even Sherlock was affected by this. John knew that this was not something that Sherlock often did; he had to have a reason behind it. John decided to leave Sherlock alone about the smoking….this time.

"Well, just tonight" John said, admitting defeat " Tomorrow you're back to quitting. Doctor's orders"

John wasn't sure but he thought he saw the slight twitch of smile from the detective as he headed for his bedroom.


	2. Distraction

"No, no absolutely not!" Sherlock said firmly. "We can't…..I'm …allergic"

"No you're not Sherlock" John said with a laugh, watching how Sherlock was becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

"Yes, yes I am" He said turning his nose up. When John walked toward Sherlock with the bundle he backed up into the desk behind him. He recovered quickly and stood up. " How would you even know?"

"Really?" John said with a laugh " Of course I would know Sherlock. As long as we've known each other and you expect me to not know something like you are allegoric to dogs?"

"Well, obviously you don't know me as well as you think" Sherlock scrunched up his nose and gave three loud sneezes and rubbed his eyes vigorously.

"Oh stop it" John chided "I can tell when you are faking Sherlock" John cradled the small Golden Retriever puppy with one arm and petted it with the other hand. He moved toward Sherlock who reflexively took a step backwards. The puppy looked up at Sherlock eagerly with his tongue hanging out. " It's just a puppy Sherlock, it's not going to attack you or anything."

"Don't be ridiculous" Sherlock said with a sneer " I'm not afraid of it. I'm just sure that Mrs. Hudson won't allow such a thing….even if I wasn't allergic"

"Well, we're in luck because I already asked Mrs. Hudson and she said that it was fine since its only for a week." John said. Stamford had asked John to dog sit while he was out of town this week. Mrs. Hudson had been more than fine with it, and it took almost a half hour before he could get the dog away from her. "And if you're really going to play the allergic card I'll call Mycroft. I'm sure that he will tell me that you are not allergic to dogs. Perhaps he will even tell me you are afraid of dogs." John set the puppy down on the ground and it proceeded to walk clumsily around the flat, bumping into various stacks of books and other belongings that were piled around on the floor. When he bumped into a stack of books by the desk Sherlock ran over and hastily scooped them up.

"Don't be absurd" Sherlock said as he put the books on the table. " I am not afraid of dogs….I just think they are messy, unpredictable; they get into things and they are a distraction."

"Well, heaven forbid you get distracted for a few seconds" John said.

The puppy wandered into the kitchen and bumped into one of the kitchen chairs. The beakers that were stacked onto the chair fell onto the floor and one smashed into several pieces. Sherlock muttered angrily under his breath as he rushed to pick up the pieces of the beaker. " See? This is why a dog isn't a good idea. Messy, they require constant attention…..get it out of here!"

John came to the kitchen and scooped up the dog. He petted behind its ears as Sherlock picked up the fragments. " Come on Sherlock, it's only a week" he said. "I haven't had a pet for so long. He'll brighten up the flat."

"If he doesn't destroy it first" Sherlock muttered as he threw the broken pieces of glass into the trash can.

"Did you never have a dog when you were kid?" John asked

"I'm not really a _dog _person" Sherlock said as he studied the dog carefully. The puppy moved his head toward Sherlock and Sherlock backed away slightly, a disgusted look on his face.

"Well, a cat then? Rabbit? Gerbil? Anything?" John asked.

"Mummy didn't really care for them" Sherlock said crossing his arms. "I can see why now. Can't you take it to a kennel or something?"

"No" John said "Come on Sherlock, look, he likes you" The dog was wiggling out of John's arms in an attempt to get towards Sherlock.

"Well, I don't like _him" _Sherlock said.

John raised his eyebrows. "Give him a chance" He said, "He might grow on you"

John extended the puppy towards Sherlock who grimaced. He paused for a second but eventually took the dog. He held it awkwardly out from his body so that the poor creature just hung there in the air. "Sherlock, he isn't a bomb" John said, " Hold him"

"What if he….feels the need to relieve himself?" Sherlock asked awkwardly.

"He went right before we came in" John said. "Trust me, it'll be fine"

Sherlock pulled the dog in toward himself and petted it awkwardly on the head. His posture remained ridged and he passed the dog quickly back to John. "I'll try to tolerate his presence" Sherlock said often handily as he walked to the kitchen table and began to look into his microscope. " But if he becomes an annoyance, I'm taking him to a kennel"

John put the dog down who instantly ran awkwardly to Sherlock's feet. John laughed as Sherlock breathed a deep sigh.


	3. Christmas

Sherlock sighed loudly as he looked through his microscope and John laughed to himself. Sherlock had been muttering under his breath and sighing loudly for the past hour as he proceeded to decorate the flat for Christmas. It was no secret that Sherlock was not the most festive of people but John was determined to make the place cheery for the holidays. It was the first Christmas that he and Sherlock would spend together, the first Christmas since he had returned from Afghanistan and he was very much feeling in the Christmas spirit.

It was really beginning to look like Christmas around here, John thought. There were lights around the windows and tinsel on the mantel. Various snow globes and Christmas figurines lay around on the tables and a small Christmas tree was standing in the corner. All that was left was for John to put ornaments and lights on it. With every item that John brought out it seemed that Sherlock's groans and sighs grew louder from the table in the kitchen. When John turned on the radio and _White Christmas _began to play, that was the last straw.

Sherlock beat his hand against the table and looked up from his microscope. "John! Could you turn that bloody music down!? I'm trying to work and all this childish nonsense is distracting me"

"Christmas isn't childish, Sherlock" John said as he dug through a box to locate the Christmas lights for the tree. When he found them he began to string them up on the tree. "Its only two weeks until Christmas, don't you feel even in the least bit of the holiday spirit?"

Sherlock stood in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. "Why should I? What's to get so excited about?"

"Everything Sherlock" John said, " Decorations, Christmas lights, all the wonderful food, family get togethers, Christmas carols" John motioned to the radio.

"I don't see your point" Sherlock said disgruntled from the doorway. " Bright lights everywhere, people singing off key constantly in the name of "caroling" and don't even get me started on the family get togethers. An excuse to see Mycroft is not a thing to be happy about."

John just shook his head as he finished putting up the Christmas lights. When he turned around Sherlock was sitting in his chair by the fire, still looking disgruntled but at least he had joined him. "Really John this all a bit much" Sherlock said as he gestured around the living room.

John took a seat in the chair across from Sherlock. "This is my first Christmas in a while that I haven't spent surrounded by desert, Sherlock" he said, "Try to be a little more in the spirit."

Sherlock sighed loudly. " I'll try, I guess" he said. Suddenly he scrunched up his nose. "What is that terrible smell?"

"Its Christmas cider" John said, "It doesn't smell terrible!"

"Its awful" Sherlock said

John shook his head, laughing to himself that Sherlock found something to complain about about everything. John went to the kitchen and grabbed the pot of cider and two tea cups. He brought it back to the living room and poured himself and Sherlock a cup. When he handed Sherlock the cup Sherlock stared at it. "I want tea" he said.

"Have you even ever tried cider?" John asked. "Come on, it's good"

"Smells terrible" Sherlock said darkly.

"It smells like cinnamon so shut up about it and give it a try" John said. He handed Sherlock the cup and he reluctantly took it. He took a small sip of it and then put it back on the table. "I'd rather have tea" he said,

"Fine, Scrooge" John said.

"Scrooge?" Sherlock said puzzled.

"You don't know who Scrooge is?" John asked in amazement.

"Why should I?" Sherlock asked. "Friend of yours?"

John smiled. Sherlock was a genius, he would never deny that. But about certain things he was totally ignorant and it always took John by surprise. He loved the rare moments that he had to explain something to Sherlock. "No, it's from a novel" John said, "Charles Dickens, _A Christmas Carol. _The main character is an old grump who hates Christmas."

"Sounds like a smart fellow" Sherlock said with the hint of a smile.

There were sounds of steps on the stairs and Mrs. Hudson entered the flat. Sherlock could see the same unmistakable "Christmas spirit" look on her face as was on John's and he groaned inwardly. "Oh, John, it just looks wonderful in here" she beamed as she looked around the flat. "Now it really feels like Christmas"

Mrs. Hudson walked around admiring the decorations until she got to the Christmas tree. "You boys simply must take a picture in front of this beautiful tree" she said.

John smiled and said, "Sure" handing Mrs. Hudson his phone to take the photo. Sherlock didn't move. He said, "What for?"

"For a Christmas picture of course" Mrs. Hudson said, " To remember it by"

"I don't need a photo to remember anything" Sherlock said

"Come on Sherlock, don't be difficult" John chided as he stood up next to the tree.

"I don't want to" Sherlock said.

John rolled his eyes and said, "Just get up and pretend to not be a Scrooge for ten seconds"

Sherlock reluctantly stood up and posed next to John by the tree. He gave a small smile which was good enough for Mrs. Hudson, who commented on "how handsome" the boys were.

She chatted with John for a short while and then went back down to her flat. The small snow squall had turned into a full blown blizzard outside the window. John took the cups to the kitchen to put them in the sink. When he returned Sherlock was standing at the window looking at the snow. John was quite sure that Sherlock's foot was tapping slightly to the beat of the music. When he heard John approaching behind him, he stopped. John stood at the window beside Sherlock, hiding his smile. "Merry Christmas" he said.

"It's not Christmas yet" Sherlock said.

"Close enough" John argued, glad to be surrounded by snow instead of sand this year. And even glad to be with Sherlock, even if he was being a Scrooge.

"Merry Christmas John" Sherlock said, giving John a small smile. "Glad you're not still in Afghanistan"

John felt a warm happiness inside him at the rare glimpse into Sherlock's feelings that he always felt when Sherlock said something kind to him and he didn't hide the broad smile that moved across his face. "Me too Sherlock"


	4. Supermarkets

**Sherlock's forced to go to the supermarket and deal with...people! Watch out! **

"Sherlock, stop being childish!" John ordered as he stood inside the automatic door of the supermarket while Sherlock was frozen just outside the door. " Get in here!"

"No, I don't want to" Sherlock said like an insolent child. It was raining heavily and it was freezing. Sherlock was getting drenched but he didn't even seem to register the fact that it was raining.

"Sherlock, we just have to get a few things, get in here now." John said. "The quicker you get in here the quicker we can leave." He felt like he was lecturing a five year old.

"I'll just stay here, you can go in the supermarket" Sherlock said.

"Its pouring the rain and its freezing" John said, "I'm not allowing you stand out here. You'll probably catch the flu or something and then I'll be stuck dealing with that too"

"No" Sherlock said looking at John defiantly.

"Oh grow up!" John said as he grabbed Sherlock by the wrist and pulled Sherlock into automatic sliding doors. People were beginning to stare and John was beginning to be embarrassed as well as annoyed.

They had just left the station and needed some things from the store. Just a few things, probably wouldn't take but a few minutes and since they were already out John figured it just made sense to get it now. Naturally, Sherlock was throwing a fit over it. He always sent John out to get things and now he acted like it was the end of the world because he had to go just once.

John grabbed a basket and began to work toward the aisles to get what they needed. He wasn't sure that Sherlock would follow him, but the detective did follow him, slowly. Sherlock thrust his hands angrily into his pockets and sulked after the doctor.

"Why couldn't you get these items later?" Sherlock whined as John walked down the aisle.

"Because we're already out and there's no point" John said, "It's just the supermarket. It's not going to kill you."

"Don't be so sure" Sherlock said dramatically as he shielded his eyes from the bright florescent lights as people pushed past him in the small aisle. A woman with a screaming infant parked her grocery cart next to him as she said looked through the items on the shelf. Sherlock's frown grew deeper and deeper the louder that the child screamed.

"Hurry up!" Sherlock said angrily to John who was reading the back of a package.

"I'm just trying to see-" John said as he read the package, but Sherlock ripped it out of his hands and threw it in the basket.

"We'll take it, just get the rest of things you _need" _Sherlock said, walking quickly down the aisle, giving the screaming baby a scowl as he walked past. John walked down various aisles scooping items up. At the end of one of the items a lady stood at a small table, passing out samples of what appeared to be some sort of snack cake.

"Care for a free sample?" the woman asked pleasantly as she handed Sherlock a piece of the cake.

Sherlock shrank back and fixed the woman with a grimace. "Why? So I can fill my body with undue amounts of refined sugar and artificial colors. So I can become unfit and overweight like you?" He made a disgusted sound.

John flushed with embarrassment as the woman pulled back self-conscious. "He means no thank you" he said as he pulled Sherlock away from the table and mortified woman.

"Behave Sherlock!" John growled at Sherlock as they walked away. "You don't have to be so incredibly rude."

"Well, people shouldn't try to push nasty food at me" Sherlock said.

"You just say no thank you and leave" John said.

"Why would I say thank you for something I don't want?" Sherlock asked.

John rolled his eyes. Sometimes he couldn't believe the things that he had to explain to Sherlock. "Then don't say thank you, just say 'I don't want any'" he said. "Or say nothing and just leave"

John and Sherlock were walking towards the check out when a small girl ran over from her mother's cart up to Sherlock. She appeared to be about four years old with red braids and freckles. She was adorable, John thought, but Sherlock looked at her as though she was some sort of disgusting vermin. "Oh my goodness, you're that detective guy aren't you?" she said excited as she ran up to him.

Sherlock tried to ignore the girl but when she didn't receive an answer, she tugged on the hem of Sherlock's coat. John put his hand over his mouth to suppress his giggles. "Sir, you're that Sherlock man, aren't you?" she asked a little louder.

Sherlock realized that he wasn't going to get rid of her because he put on a really bad, really fake smile and said, "Yes, that's me"

"I've seen you on the telly" she said. "When I get to be grown up I want to solve crimes like you do. You help people"

Sherlock didn't seem to know what to say. He looked to John for help but John was too busying laughing at Sherlock's expression.

Rescue came in the form of the girl's mother who was calling her name from a few feet away. She looked back and then said, "Mummy's calling me" she looked up at his tall form with a puzzled expression. "Where's your detective's hat?"

"Not my hat" Sherlock muttered irritably.

The girl's mother called her again and she began to walk away "Bye, Sherlock!" she called before running over to her mom.

John began to walk toward the check out as Sherlock followed grumpily behind him. "Shut up, John" he said as John continued to laugh.

"Oh I can't" John said through his laughs " You're expression was too priceless"

"Why do people always ask about the hat?" Sherlock asked angrily. "I wore the stupid hat once and it wasn't even mine"

John just smiled at him. Sherlock rolled his eyes. "I _hate _supermarkets" he muttered and walked out of the store as John paid the cashier.


	5. Snow

**Thanks** **to** **lozzabluebell for the idea behind this drabble :) Please review and submit your ideas for future drabbles. I love to hear from my readers!**

_This is not good…._John knew it the second that he saw the light change in Sherlock's eyes as he turned away from the body and began to walk out of the room. It was a rare expression that he saw on Sherlock; it was doubt, uncertainty, embarrassment, rage all rolled up into one and it was most certainly not a good thing when coming from Sherlock.

They had been called to the crime scene earlier that night and it had started off on the wrong foot from the beginning. Lestrade was delayed at a meeting and so he was to arrive later; it was never good for Sherlock when Lestrade wasn't there; the other people at the station either barely tolerated him, or, like Anderson and Donavan, they tormented him. Even more unlucky was the fact that Anderson and Donavan were both on the scene. The crime scene displayed a young man lying face down on the ground with a gun in his head, a bullet to his temple; obvious suicide except for the fact that neighbors in the opposite flat had heard arguing minutes before the shot went off. The man was seminary student, kind, well liked and it seemed he was unlikely to have any enemies. When John examined the scene he obviously had no reason to think the man hadn't killed himself; there was no evidence to dispel that theory. But he knew that Sherlock would come in spouting off a million different little clues that only he could see and make everyone there feel dumb as rocks.

Only….he didn't. Sherlock surveyed and studied the body and the room meticulously, but found nothing noteworthy. His silence was eerie and unusual and John felt himself growing more and more uncomfortable the more time passed. After others had finished their work their seemed to just be standing around, almost as if waiting for Sherlock to solve it for them. Only he didn't. John could see Sherlock's pale face become flushed and even sweaty but he remained silent. He was….unsure…..puzzled. It was not a good thing. So when he saw that flash in Sherlock's eyes and saw him turn to go, he knew this was not a good thing.

Unfortunately, he wasn't the only that picked up on this. "Leaving already, freak?" Donavan asked tauntingly as Sherlock walked to the door. "What's the matter? Don't want to let us in on the brilliant things you've found?"

John tried to keep walking, hoping that Sherlock would just follow suit, but he didn't. He actually stopped. "It's obvious that for once that he doesn't know anything" Anderson mocked. "Or, maybe, that this is one time that he couldn't make up any bullshit to feed us. That's the more likely of the options"

John was horrified to see a blush of red spread across Sherlock's face as if he was actually embarrassed. John felt a fire of anger rise up inside him as Sherlock just stood there and took the abuse. It was very unusual and just added to John's feeling that something was about to be very wrong.

"Come off it" John said, "Just shut up" he turned toward Sherlock. "Let's get out of here" he said.

But it wasn't that easy. John tried to walk away, he really did. But when he heard muttering of "faker" and "retard" that was it. They'd never be acting this way if Lestrade was here and John couldn't just stand by allow them to taunt Sherlock without doing something. His attitude had always been that it was better to act first and then apologize later and so feeling his rage pull at him, he swung his arm toward Anderson's face. Only it didn't get there. He felt his hand grabbed from behind; Sherlock pulled John's arm back and prevented him from laying on Anderson what he deserved.

"What are you doing?" John asked him, turning around to face him.

"Stopping you from doing something you'll regret later" Sherlock said coolly, all traces of his embarrassment fading as he was composing himself. "Your loyalty is commendable but really, Lestrade would have a fit"

Anderson and Donavan were watching with curiosity and were laughing. When John put his hand down and submitted to what Sherlock said, Anderson jeered at him "Better do what your husband says, John. I guess we know who wears the pants in that relationship" The pair laughed as John felt his blood boil; Sherlock was the only thing stopping him from acting. He was furious; so he was glad when Sherlock merely smiled at their taunting.

"As it's clearly obvious in your relationship as well" Sherlock said, "Really, Anderson, I wouldn't taunt John. Everyone knows you spend enough time submitting to Donavan. I'd say she's trained you pretty well by now" Sherlock surveyed Anderson with one of his deductive looks. "hmmm…..yes" he said as if he was seeing something very telling. John was the only one that could pick up on the fact that it was fake.

Anderson's face twisted into anger. "Just shut up you stupid freak" he snarled. "You don't know anything about me just like you don't know anything about this case"

"I could prove you wrong, you know" Sherlock said with a smile. "About you, you know? I know quite a lot about you. Shall I share with everyone? How about I start with the interesting extracurricular activities you partook in last night?"

"Oh please" Anderson rolled his eyes skeptically and crossed his arms.

"I shall? Okay then; feeling inadequate after being reprimanded by Lestrade on some huge oversights you had on the Willis case, and feeling lonely, as you often do, you went to the pub in search of drowning your sorrows. You went alone, but you certainly didn't leave alone. You-"

"Get the hell out of here!" Anderson yelled at Sherlock, realizing that Sherlock was serious, and obviously correct. "You are such a freak, you know that?"

Sherlock just smiled. "Yes, I know that. If that's the worst that I am, then I'm in a much better place than you. Have fun trying to figure out what that kiss from last night means" he turned leaving Anderson furious and John smiling from ear to ear. They walked out of the house and into the heavy snow that was falling. Several inches were on the ground already and with the heavy falling it promised that much more was to come. "That was a brilliant you know?" John asked as they walked down the steps and onto the sidewalk.

Sherlock smiled. "Yes." He looked at John "If you'd keep your emotions in check I'm sure that you could put Anderson down more often as well. It's not hard to do"

The two men exchanged a hearty laugh before Sherlock sat on the steps in front of the flat and appeared to be deep in thought. No doubt he was trying to remedy the ordeal of not knowing anything about the case inside. John knew that he was probably lost in his mind palace and would be there for quite some time, leaving John watching the falling snow and trying to not freeze in the frigid temperatures. Across the street he observed a pair of boys throwing snowballs at each other and laughing at delight at the snow that was falling. John felt a mischievous smile spread across his face as he scooped up some snow into his hands and rolling into a ball.

The snowball hit Sherlock square in the face, dusting his face and coat with white. His eyes popped open and he fixed John with a scowl. "What are you doing?" he asked angrily.

"Bored!" John said in tone he had heard Sherlock use before as he pelted Sherlock with another snowball. It hit him on the forehead and splattered into his hair. His scowl deepened.

"Well, you could actually be helping me try to figure out what's going on here instead of playing with snow like a child." Sherlock said.

"I could" John said, walking over to Sherlock was a snowball in hand. "But I choose not to" he took the snowball and slammed it on top of Sherlock's head. He smashed the white snow into his dark curls with relish.

It was glad to know that Sherlock was human for at that moment, Sherlock pushed John off the steps. John fell backward and landed on his back into the snow. Sherlock took his moment of unequilibrium and shoved a bunch of snow over on top of John's face. He rubbed it in until John's face was burning with cold.

"Stop!" John said loudly though he was laughing. "Snowballs over!"

"No, John you started this" Sherlock said, pushing John's head into the snow. "You should have considered I had Mycroft as an older brother; I know how to have a snowball fight. And while Mycroft has always been large than me, you are not" John grasped at the snow around him, managing to throw some up at Sherlock's face. This didn't prevent Sherlock from pinning John down in the snow, face first. Despite the fact that they were soaking and freezing, the two men were laughing like children.

"What the hell is going on here?" came a familiar voice from behind them.

John and Sherlock turned and saw Lestrade getting out of a cab and looking at them as if they were alien figures. John and Sherlock quickly jumped up and brushed themselves off. "Nothing, nothing at all" John said quickly, his cold cheeks filling with heat.

"I'm gone for a few minutes and this is what I find" Lestrade said incredulously. "Whenever you two are done doing….whatever it is you're doing, join me in the house would you?" he awkwardly walked away.

When Lestrade was in the house Sherlock and John burst into laughter.

"Now we'll be the talk of the rest of the day" Sherlock said.

"After your display of deduction earlier?" John asked. "Not a chance. Anderson will be receiving much more heat than us"

At that, Sherlock looked at John with a smirk on his face.


	6. Needs

"Well, this is just great John!" Sherlock complained loudly from the passenger seat of the car as John drove. "I knew you'd get us lost!"

"What? Me?" John asked angrily. " _You _were the one that insisted I drive! Now you're complaining?"

"I'm complaining because we are lost!" Sherlock said irritably. "If I had driven, then we wouldn't be lost"

"Well, then you should have drove!" John exclaimed. Sherlock was unbelievable. He would do anything to blame something on John when in reality it'd been his fault. Several hours ago they had set off to a crime scene that Lestrade was assisting the local police there with. He had wanted Sherlock's opinion on the matter and so he had allowed the two to take one of the force's cars and come out here. Of course Sherlock had whined that he didn't want to drive and so John had driven. Sherlock had, thankfully, been immersed in his own thoughts about the case for most of the drive but now it appeared that he was done with that now and had turned sour, turning most of this energy towards John.

"Well, I assumed that you had enough mental capacity to follow directions and that that wouldn't be necessary" Sherlock said angrily. It was strange to see such annoyance in Sherlock. He was even fidgeting in his seat which John thought was strange.

John felt anger rise up at Sherlock's jab. "I assure you I have enough mental capacity to follow directions" he said through gritted teeth. " But Lestrade's directions were horrible. I'm sure even you'd have a tough time following them!"

"I most certainly would not" Sherlock said with certainty.

"Well, then maybe you should have paid attention as we were driving" John said.

"I was too busy trying to solve a case" Sherlock said. "I took on the more difficult task while I left you to do the simple one. I guess I should have done both"

John really didn't appreciate Sherlock jabbing at his intelligence. It was not uncommon to be insulted by Sherlock but he usually wasn't so obvious about it. John pulled the car over on the side of the road. They were in the middle of nowhere; the road stretched on for what appeared to be miles with nothing around but a wide vacant field on one side and a forest on the other. Sherlock looked at John when he pulled the car over. "What are we are doing here?" Sherlock asked in annoyance.

"Stretching our legs" John said. "Plus I need to get out of the same car as your ego for a minute or two" he threw his door open and got out of the car. He stretched his legs and muscles in the cool air of the early evening, pulling a map out of the car and studied it, trying to figure out where they were. Sherlock remained in the car for a moment and then got out. John sighed as he heard Sherlock's door open, knowing he was getting ready to launch another string of arguments at him.

"Have you figured out where we are yet?" He asked in annoyance. He was pacing around in a small circle, hands in his pocket.

"No, give me more than five seconds" John said angrily. As he studied the map, Sherlock continued to walk around in the same circle, quickly and without stopping.

"Stop walking around like that, you're making me dizzy" John said. Much to his surprise, Sherlock actually did stop. But even standing in one spot he was still fidgeting, jiggling around where he was standing in place.

"Where are we!" Sherlock asked angrily, moving his feet around in irritation.

"I don't know!" John screamed, getting up in Sherlock's face; he could be _so _annoying sometimes! Couldn't he just shut up for five seconds? "Why don't you get back in the car and leave me alone. Drink your coffee and be quiet"

"I don't want my coffee" Sherlock said, taking to pacing again. " I want to leave this place and find civilization."

"I can't believe I went out of my way to get you that coffee and you didn't even drink any of it" John said. It figured; John drove 20 minutes out his way to go to Sherlock's favorite coffee place and he hadn't even touched it.

"I said I didn't want it! Leave me alone" Sherlock said.

"I've never known you to turn down that coffee" John said, looking at the map "Really odd…" Then John thought about it, in the way that Sherlock would think about it. Made a deduction of his own, taking in Sherlock's irritation, his fidgetiness and his not wanting to drink his coffee. "Oh I see" he said vaguely, a smile twitching at the corner of his lips.

"What?" Sherlock asked

"You're about to bloody bust aren't you?" John asked with a laugh. "Should have gone before we left the house."

"Oh shut up, you're wrong" Sherlock said, keeping a straight face but John still noticed the slight blush on his cheeks.

"No I'm not" John said smiling at Sherlock "you're fidgeting like a 3 year old and you won't drink your coffee, which is one of the few things I know you will willingly consume." He gestured towards the woods on the other side of the street. "Better pick a tree"

Sherlock looked back at the trees and then back to John with a fallen expression on his face. "What are you implying?" he asked.

"I'm implying you better go take care of yourself before it ends up a puddle on the pavement here" John said, his cheeks beginning to hurt from the smile he couldn't get off his face. It wasn't often that he got a good jab in on Sherlock and he was relishing every second of it.

Sherlock's face displayed horror. "You're suggesting I….._go _…..outside?" he asked.

"Well, yeah, obviously" John said. "You need to go, so just go"

"How barbaric" Sherlock spat.

"You've never went outside before?" John asked in surprise. "Not even as a kid?"

"No, how uncivilized" Sherlock said. "Why would I do such a thing?"

"Because sometimes you don't have any other option" John said.

"I can understand that you, as a solider, are used to such things" Sherlock said. "But I am not. I can wait"

"Really?" John asked skeptically, noticing that Sherlock's fidgeting had grown more insistent since they had gotten out of the car. "I am guessing by what I've figured out from this map that we are quiet some way from the nearest town. I'm not sure Lestrade would appreciate it if you piddled in his car."

Sherlock's face turned deep red. "You are so childish, John. I hate you for getting us lost out here." He said, "Look what you've brought me to"

Sherlock continued to turn red as he awkwardly turned around and trotted across the street toward the trees. "Watch out for critters" John said with a giggle. Sherlock turned around and fixed John with a very rude, very uncharacteristic hand gesture. John just continued to laugh. "I hate you!" Sherlock called out as he ran into the trees.

"Yeah, you too" John said, turning his attention back towards the map. Seeing the looks on Sherlock's face and the image of him having to use a tree were totally worth getting lost for.


	7. Valentine

John walked down the sidewalk as a light snow began to fall. The sidewalks seemed more crowed as usual as couples walked hand in hand. John resisted the urge to roll his eyes; February 14th. He'd love to find who ever invented Valentine's Day and give them a swift kick in the pants. It was just an excuse to remember that he was, once more, single.

Not that it was all that great having a girlfriend on Valentine's Day. Woman always expected so much on that one particular day and it seemed that no matter what you did, they were never satisfied. So, it wasn't that he particularly wanted to be out with someone right now, suffering over which flowers and cards to buy, trying to make the day 'spectacular' for someone. He was just…..lonely.

He hated to admit it. It was just because it happened to be this stupid holiday; otherwise he wouldn't be feeling this way. It had been a stressful day in the office, which had only been compacted by the mounds of flowers and candy that had made it into the office for the nurses and secretaries. If one more person had asked him what he was doing tonight, he was going to scream.

He'd been so desperate that he had tried to call Sherlock on his lunch break to talk to him. He hadn't answered of course, which wasn't a surprise as Sherlock rarely talked on the phone. He didn't like talking on the phone, preferring to text. So, it wasn't surprising. What was surprising was that it left John feeling….lonely? Damn Valentine's Day.

The snow was really beginning to pick up and John was happy when he saw 221B coming up. The wind was blowing fiercely and John just wanted to get into the warmth of the flat.

He walked up the stairs and into the living room. He looked around the flat and found Sherlock in the kitchen, mixing various substances in test tubes. There was a horrible smell emanating from the kitchen and John didn't even want to ask Sherlock what the smell was.

"Hello" John called out as he made his way to his chair.

Sherlock muttered something under his breath but John wasn't sure that it was hello. It probably wasn't even directed at him, he was probably talking to himself. When John turned toward his chair, he found something laying on it. It was a package of his favorite kind of chocolate, in one of those annoying pink and red packages that they came out with especially at Valentine's Day. John picked it up and looked at it puzzled.

"Uh, what's this?" he asked towards Sherlock in the kitchen.

Sherlock didn't look up from his test tubes. "Oh, that's that chocolate you like" he said nonchalantly.

"What for?" John asked.

Sherlock shrugged. "I had to go to the store today and I saw it. Thought you might want some"

Sherlock had never been in a supermarket unless expressly dragged there. If he had needed something, he would have texted John and expected him to pick it up. "So, what was so important that you actually found yourself in the supermarket?"

Sherlock hesitated. "Supplies" he said after a long pause. His pale face deepened in color slightly.

John smiled as the image of Sherlock in the supermarket picking through Valentine chocolate with the masses of men who had forgotten it was Valentine's came into his mind. "Thanks Sherlock" he said, sitting down in his chair and opening the candy. When he turned back to look at the detective, he saw a slight smile turning the corners of his lips.


	8. Mood

John was excited about the upcoming date he was having. He had just gotten out of the shower and still had his dressing gown on. In fact he didn't even plan on changing out of, he thought with a smile. Sarah was coming over tonight, as he had a rare night without Sherlock in the flat; needless to say usually they went to Sarah's place as Sherlock could really be a wet blanket around the flat. But now he was out of town with Lestrade; they had an early seminar and were staying at the hotel it was being hosted at so that they could simply go down to it in the morning.

John had been excited about the date all day; Sarah had been sending him suggestive texts all day while they were at the office. She had had to work a bit later than John which gave him the perfect opportunity to get ready for the date. He gotten her favorite take away, had gotten a fire going in the fireplace and had candles lit around the flat. He dried his hair in a rush, expecting her any minuet; this was going to be a good night.

John heard the door of the flat open and a smile spread across his face. He opened his dressing gown, showing his underwear underneath. He slid quietly out into the living room to surprise her. " I have simply been waiting for you all day" he said. " I can't wait to-"

John instantly stopped when he saw that it was not Sarah in the living room but it was Sherlock. "Sherlock, what the hell?" he asked exasperated, closing his gown as his face turned beet red.

Sherlock had a scowl on his face. "John, do put some clothes on" he said irritatedly. He threw down his overnight bag on the floor and began to take off his coat. John realized in horror that he was planning on staying "What are you doing here?" John asked in irritation.

"I live here" Sherlock spat. He obviously was angry about something but John didn't care. This was supposed to be his night.

"I know you live here, but you're supposed to be with Greg, what happened?" John asked.

"I can't stand him, I will simply drive to the seminar in the morning" Sherlock said.

"What do you mean you can't stand him?" John asked. "Of course you can"

"We weren't even to the hotel and yet and he just wouldn't shut up. Changing the radio over and over, and endless talking. He wouldn't shut up! When he wasn't talking he was singing. I can't take it" Sherlock said. "I need some peace and quiet"

"Well, that's just terrible" John said sarcastically. " But you have to get out of here"

Sherlock wiped around and stared at John. "Why? I live here just as much as you do. You want me to leave so you can parade around the flat naked some more?"

"I am not naked" John said suppressing his anger. "And I want you to leave because Sarah is coming over. We already have plans."

"Well, surely I'm not going to stop you" Sherlock said. "I don't take up the whole flat, you know"

John paused for a second before saying, "Get out of here. Please, you can't stay. Really you have to leave" he was almost pleading at this point.

"What is your problem?" Sherlock asked. "I don't see why you are making such a big deal of this. I-" Sherlock looked around the flat, taking in the scene. "Oh God…" he muttered as it dawned on him. He rolled his eyes. "Well, I'm going to be in my room" he said as he walked toward his bedroom " I'll make sure I don't…interrupt you. But please, do try to keep it down"

John's face somehow managed to turn even redder. He had a feeling this evening was not going to go the way he planned.


	9. Caught

"How many bloody times do I have to tell you? No body parts in the fridge!" John yelled at Sherlock, holding up a jar of some unidentified bloody body parts in disgust.

"Put that back where you found it!" Sherlock yelled back. "It's very important to my experiment that it stays cold!"

"This is so completely disgusting….it's open" John said as the gross smell began to reach his nose"

"It _needs _to be open….put it back" Sherlock yelled in a whiny tone.

"Fine!" John shoved the nasty jar of 'experiments' back into the refrigerator, sliding it back into the back. It wasn't worth the argument.

"Good….." Sherlock said, folding his arms and stalking off into the sitting room.

Sherlock had been especially annoying all day and it was only mid-morning. Everything John said or did brought some kind of whiny response from Sherlock. He'd complained about the smell of John's breakfast, whined about the program on the telly, pounded on the bathroom door the entire time he was in the shower. John needed a break from Sherlock and he was pretty sure that Sherlock probably needed a break from him. It wasn't too often he got _this _whiny.

When John walked into the sitting room and found Sherlock laying across the couch on his stomach, head turned toward the telly, blankly staring at it. When he noticed John, he sighed, closing his eyes. "Can't you just leave?" he whined.

"Oh don't worry, I plan to" John said, grabbing his coat and heading for the door. "As usual, you used the last of the milk and didn't get anymore. Do something about your horrible attitude while I'm gone"

John walked out the door and into the bright morning sun. The weather was pleasant at least, John mused as he walked down the street toward the market. He had walked for several minutes when he realized that he had left his wallet at home and turned back around the go get it.

John walked through the door of the flat, catching a blur out of the corner of his eye; he looked toward the couch, seeing Sherlock pulling his dressing gown tightly around him, sitting hunched over. His face held a rare blush on it as he whipped around toward John. "What are you doing back?" he hissed.

"I left my wallet here" John said, "I came back to get-"

"Well, get it and get out" Sherlock said, face still red and holding his hunched over position.

"That's what I'm planning on doing" John said, exasperatedly. "If you'd give me 2 minutes. What are you in such a hurray for anyway?" John leaned forward and grabbed his wallet off the table, annoyed when he noticed that it had been moved to the edge of the table to make room for a large box of tissues. He glanced over at Sherlock who appeared to be almost in pain watching John, hoping he'd leave.

John rolled his eyes. " Oh god, don't tell me you were-"

"Don't be ridiculous!" Sherlock said dramatically even though the bluish was growing deeper.

"If you weren't, then why don't you just get up?" John asked. "You look rather uncomfortable"

"I think getting up right now would be….unwise" Sherlock said uncomfortably, looking down at his lap.

"Sherlock, I was gone five minutes" John said tiredly.

"Well, you weren't supposed to come back so soon….besides….it was _your _idea" Sherlock said smugly.

"No" John said firmly, "Let's get it straight that this" he gestured toward Sherlock "Was most certainly _not_ my idea."

"You told me to do something about my….attitude" Sherlock said "My "attitude" , which I take to mean my heightened annoyance at everything you said and did was caused because I am-

"Please don't finish that sentence" John said in exasperation, rubbing his eyes. "I'm sorry I asked…..here, I'll just get out so you can….." John shook his head and made quickly for the door. Before walking out he turned toward Sherlock. "Could you….you know…not do it on the couch? Go to your bedroom or the bathroom or something?"

"John, just because you usually do it in your bedroom doesn't mean I have to…..you usually do it when I'm here so I can only assume that you do it in your room because you're looking for privacy. Since you won't be here, I don't have the need for such privacy. Thus-"

John shook his head; even in this situation Sherlock could be such an annoying know it all. He didn't even want to think how Sherlock knew all that. "Could you at least lie and say you're going to not do it here?" he asked.

Sherlock looked confused. " I don't see the point but….yes, John. I will most certainly go to my room after you leave"

John almost laughed at Sherlock's fakeness but he appreciated at least the little effort that he had put into it. "Okay, bye" John said quickly, dashing out the door before Sherlock could say anything else, planning on spending an extended time at the supermarket.


End file.
